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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599986">noted</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmorygilmore/pseuds/schmorygilmore'>schmorygilmore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Suits (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series Finale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:27:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,685</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24599986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmorygilmore/pseuds/schmorygilmore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There must have been nearly a hundred notes stuffed to the brim within this one file folder, all written in her delicate but hurried scrawl, all finished with her slightly slanted “— D”. — prompted by sam (post 9x10, one shot.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Donna Paulsen &amp; Harvey Specter, Donna Paulsen/Harvey Specter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>noted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/swancharmings/gifts">swancharmings</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: This was a request from Sam (swancharmings) on twitter forever ago where she said “i need a fic where harvey saves all the little post-it notes donna leaves him on files or for messages over the years, some are just routine but others have her flare and spunk and some are heartfelt and he just keeps them in a drawer in his desk, and she finds them all one day”</p><p>special shoutout to elle (darveyiscanon1) for beta-ing this for me and sam (swancharmings) for prompted this ages ago</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>—</p><p>
  <em> I stood for a breath at your door </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Just to let it sink in a bit more </em>
</p><p>
  <em> However you held me that night, I just knew </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Love don't get better than you </em>
</p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> noted </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p><p>It felt strange, walking into the firm on a Saturday. Work on a Saturday was not something foreign to her, she was quite familiar with the concept. However, walking through those doors knowing very well this could be the last time she ever did, the last time they ever did, that felt strange.</p><p> </p><p>They had been here together yesterday to say one last goodbye to everyone and part of her thought that would be it, that would be the end of it, but Harvey had woken up with the sun saying that he wanted to go back in one more time to make sure all the ‘i’s were dotted and the ‘t’s were crossed. However, Donna, being Donna, knew that part of him just wanted a few more hours to exist in the space he’d spent the better part of his life helping build. </p><p> </p><p>Secretly, she had wanted to make one last trip back as well, because while it was Harvey’s office, it was their firm, and for the better part of her life it was where they fought the world together so she wanted to make sure that anything that meant anything to them was in its proper place and would make its way to them. </p><p> </p><p>So, they had gotten ready and made their way to the firm together. After they arrived, Harvey laid a chaste kiss on her lips, letting her know he’d be flitting back and forth from partner to partner, just to make sure all the loose ends were tied up, and that he’d meet up with her in his office to help supervise the move. Assuring him with a smirk that she’d take care of everything, as she always does, they went their separate ways. </p><p> </p><p>Walking through the corridors, she felt like she was walking through a silent battlefield. The calm after the storm. She paused for a quick moment in front of her old office, running her fingers over her name on the door one more time and taking a brief glance at all the boxes. Her work life, her entire life until now, filled those boxes. </p><p> </p><p>The last few weeks have been a journey in introspection and she realizes she’s spent equal amounts of time reminiscing as much as she has fighting. This was a long time coming. The fight was over now though, now it was time to pack up and move on to the next chapter in their story. Thankfully, she wasn’t doing it alone. </p><p> </p><p>Squaring her shoulders and placing a slight smile on her lips, she closed the door to her office one last time, turned the corner and made her way down the hall to his office. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Standing outside watching the last of the movers box up the last of Harvey’s things, she looked down to the cubicle outside his office. This is where she started. This is where it all started. Yes, there was the DA’s office and the strawberries and whipped cream of it all but this, this is where they really began. This is where she sat day in and day out, helping, supporting, fixing, denying. </p><p> </p><p>This is where <em> they </em> really started. </p><p> </p><p>This cubicle is where she heard about Mike over the intercom, where she constantly distracted Louis from interrupting Harvey, where she controlled his schedule, where he would subtly flirt and she would pretend not to notice, where she took his messages and fixed his problems. This was her control center, her center stage. She left and she came back and then she grew into a bigger role, but this is where it began. </p><p> </p><p>Running her hands over the very edge, she glanced up and noticed that the moving company was putting the last of the tape on the final boxes. As they made their way out of the office with a smile and a nod, she made her way in.</p><p> </p><p>She made a trip around the room, surveying the dishevelled office, which was once the center of her universe. Running her fingertips over anything tangible, she grounded herself. With each touch, she was solidifying her choices, the move, the marriage, everything. She was confirming them to herself. Although, if she’s honest, they weren’t choices so much as the destination fate laid out for her. </p><p> </p><p>Finally making her way to his chair, she took a seat, yet again running her hands over the edges of the desk in front of her. So many moments had happened right here. They fought, they flirted, they smiled, they drank. This is really where it all came to be. This is where she forced him to confront things he never wanted to admit, where she pulled his head out of his ass time and time again. But he had finally admitted his feelings, without prompting, and now they were where they were supposed to be and they were going where they were supposed to go.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she turned around and started opening and closing drawers, just to make sure that they didn’t leave anything important behind. The built-ins on the back wall would obviously be staying in the office, but she had to be sure that nothing they would need would be forgotten. </p><p> </p><p>After opening and closing almost every one, she reached the final drawer and upon pulling it open she noticed one lone folder at the very bottom. The movers must have missed this in their quest to gather all their belongings. She could understand how it would be missed. </p><p> </p><p>It appeared to be a meaningless folder, lacking importance. It clearly wasn’t a legal file of any kind and as she reached for it, her mind began to race with the possibilities of its contents. She thought she knew Harvey like the back of her hand, and she knows deep down that she does, but these last few months he never stops surprising her. </p><p> </p><p>Placing the folder on the desk she noticed that paper was sticking out of every which way imaginable, in a varied amount of different colors and hues. Lacking patience, she opened the folder and gasped upon viewing its contents. </p><p> </p><p>Inside the folder, she found post-it notes of varying sizes. There must have been nearly a hundred notes stuffed to the brim within this one file folder, all written in her delicate but hurried scrawl, all finished with her slightly slanted “<em> — D </em>”. </p><p> </p><p>Filtering through message upon message, she took a deep breath realizing that over the past however many years, Harvey had not only paid attention to the, what she considered, meaningless notes but he had saved them. No matter their level of importance, he had filed them away in a hidden folder at the bottom of one of his desk drawers. </p><p> </p><p>Starting at the top she saw what appeared to be one of the last ones she’d written for him. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> See you at home. — D </em>” </p><p> </p><p>As she peeled back note after note she noticed the contents and how, like Harvey, they were in no semblance of order. They were just tiny time capsules of their life together written on varying shades of yellow, pink and orange. Each layer peeled back another memory. Smiling, she continued to go through each one. </p><p> </p><p>On a bright pink note she found, “<em> Can opener? :) — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>And then a subtle orange note showed, <em> “Jessica needs to see you in her office. NOW! — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>A soft yellow square said, <em> “I moved your 2:00 to 2:30. You’ll need this. — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>A highlighter yellow colored post-it displayed, <em> “Found what you were looking for. — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>Pausing briefly on that one, she wondered what had made him even consider saving each one of these little nonsensical moments. Clearly, what had seemed like a hurried way of communicating to her had meant more to him. Glancing up at the doors to assure she wouldn’t be discovered yet, she went back to thumbing through each message. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Mike dropped these off at 11:00 (it was really 1:00) — D”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She almost laughed out loud at that. She knew if she kept going she’d find many notes that showed something very similar from Mike’s first days when he was trying so hard to be a baby Harvey. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> I’ll see you at home. Bring Thai. — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>They rarely left separately after they had gotten together that fateful night, but she knew there would be at least a few of these notes in the folder as well. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I’m sorry, Harvey. — D”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>This one made her pause and suck in a breathy gasp. It was a green post-it. The only green note in the stack. She knew where that was from, it was from Louis’ desk. A little known Donna Paulsen fact was she hated green post-its. Pink, yellow, orange, they were all fine. But never green. </p><p> </p><p>This lime green post-it displaying her apology was written during a time when she had broken his heart as well as her own. She remembered this note well. She had brought him a list of possible replacements for her, to which he brushed off swiftly. After their confrontation, she had gone back to his office when he was gone and placed a folder on his desk with the list, where she had stuck a hideous green sticky note to the top, conveying her apology in the only way she thought he’d listen.</p><p> </p><p>Shaking her head of those thoughts, she picked up the next note. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Your dad would be proud. — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>She remembered this one too. A yellow note written in red ink. This was from the first case he worked after he was back from his father’s funeral. The funeral she had all but dragged him to herself. He had come back into the office, shoulders squared off, empty look in his eyes masking it with a stern look of determination. But she had known. She had known he was two inches away from a breakdown. So after closing that last deal, she had delivered the paperwork to his office with that yellow sticky note placed right on top. As she placed it on his desk in front of him silently, he had read the note quickly then looked up at her with the same heartbreaking look in his eyes that he had had when she told him his dad was gone. She had nodded slightly with a smile and made her way out of the room and back to her desk. </p><p> </p><p>Placing that one to the side, she found the next brightly colored message. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> We waited long enough. Come home. — D”  </em></p><p> </p><p>She could feel tears springing to the corner of her eyes as she glanced over her hasty scribble. Of course, she remembered this one. She had written this just a week or two after he had showed up at her door. He had been busy with new clients and she had left the firm without him, but before doing so she had dropped a newly engraved key on his desk and then hurriedly made her exit out of his office. They had shifted their relationship even further that night, exchanging keys to condos and solidifying even further that this was, indeed, it for them. </p><p> </p><p>Blinking back the tears she can’t fathom fighting, she places that one right on top and continues thumbing through the stack, realizing that in all the ways she tried to hide her feelings, they were always there, even in something so small as a post-it note. </p><p> </p><p>The more she looked through each one, the more she noticed she couldn’t drag her focus from the last sticky note, the one telling him to come home. She peeled it back off the stack and held it in her hands, turning it over and over and noticed the shift. The note felt heavier than it did just mere moments ago. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>He was finally done. </p><p> </p><p>He had seen every partner. He had dotted every ‘i’. He had crossed every ‘t’. It had taken a bit longer than he thought, with some moments getting to the emotional side of him, but it was finally done. </p><p> </p><p>Turning the corner one last time, he made his way to his office, the sight of all the boxes giving him a bittersweet feeling. But seeing her sitting at his chair, the bittersweet feeling faded into one of content.</p><p> </p><p>He took a moment to look her over. He always enjoyed those moments where he was able to watch her when she wasn’t looking. He noticed her brow furrowed in concentration, clearly lost in thought. He could tell by the look on her face that whatever she was looking at was making her reflective, almost pensive. </p><p> </p><p>Approaching his office slowly he arrived at the door and he found her still lost in thought, but upon closer inspection he noticed there were tears forming in the corner of her eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” he said softly. </p><p> </p><p>Startled from her thoughts, she quickly placed the post-it back in the file and closed it in a rush. </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t even hear you come in,” she responded with a sheepish smile. “The movers are all done, they’ve got everything packed up and I promise no one mishandled your balls, they’re all tucked away properly and —” </p><p> </p><p>“Donna?” he questioned with a tilt of his head and a smirk. </p><p> </p><p>Looking at him in the most innocent way she could manage after being caught in the act of snooping, she stayed silent and sheepish.</p><p> </p><p>Trying again, he said “Donna?” That same smirk still placed on his lips. </p><p> </p><p>Hesitating a bit, she finally responded. “Okay, listen, I’m sorry I was just going through all the desk drawers to make sure the movers didn’t miss anything and I found it and I mean, I couldn’t <em> not </em> go through it and I just —” </p><p> </p><p>“Found what?” he said, walking closer to the desk.</p><p> </p><p>“This,” she said with a gentle smile, handing him the folder. He didn’t even need to open it to know what it was. He was all too familiar. </p><p> </p><p>“Harvey,” she said in that quiet tone she kept just for him. </p><p> </p><p>As he opened the folder, reading over notes that she had just pursued, she studied his face. He was smiling bright, looking down and running his fingers over each note. </p><p> </p><p>“You kept these? You kept these this whole time?” </p><p> </p><p>Looking up at her face he was still smiling, his real smile. Not that smirk, which she loved, but the soft happy smile he saved for those special moments when it was just them. </p><p> </p><p>“Uh, yeah, I mean —” he started then stopped. Taking a breath he said, “This is us, Donna.” </p><p> </p><p>“But, Harvey, all this time,” she uttered with a slight shake of her head. </p><p> </p><p>“Well you know why now, don’t you?” </p><p> </p><p>“No. Why?”<br/><br/>Taking another breath and looking her dead in the eyes, he said, “Donna, it’s always been you. Even when it wasn’t.” </p><p> </p><p>Willing herself not to cry, she looked away from him for a moment to collect herself. After a few moments she glanced back toward his face and found him still watching her. </p><p> </p><p>“I love you, you know that?” she whispered, afraid to disturb the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“I know,” he said smugly. </p><p> </p><p>“Smug idiot.” </p><p> </p><p>“Your idiot,” he said confidently. </p><p> </p><p>Shaking her head, she rose from her chair and whispered, “Yes. You are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s go home, Donna.”  </p><p> </p><p>As they made their way out of the office, for the last time, the folder tightly grasped in one of her hands and her other wrapped in his, she couldn’t stop smiling. She knew now more than ever that it had always been her and it would always be her, no matter where they were. </p><p> </p><p>Taking the elevator down for the final time, she made a mental note to buy post-its. </p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I was naive in your arms </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was naive from the start </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I felt it back then, can't you tell I still do? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Love don't get better than you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Song: Sad Corny Fuck - JP Saxe </em>
</p><p>
  <em> — </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Song: Sad Corny Fuck - JP Saxe</p><p>Thank you guys for reading! Comments / reviews / criticism are always welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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